Could it be that he was interested in more than merely enticing her into his bed?
Warming to the idea of keeping company with the handsome and worldly marquis, Maria found her heart swelling at the prospect of becoming wife to a man she knew and admired. Would Kirkham be the one?
“When do you wish to leave?” she asked.
The village of Kirkham was a prosperous one. The men were out planting their spring seed in the ridges and furrows of the fields, and a good many of the women remained in the village itself, working at their various tasks at home.
Maria looked around her. Chickens pecked at the ground outside the small cottages, and pigs rooted around at will. Children ran free, playing at games with which Maria was wholly unfamiliar.
As she and Nicholas rode down the lane, a multitude of children surrounded them, squealing with glee and begging Nicholas for treats. They stopped next to the alehouse, and Maria’s eyes grew wide when he dropped down from his horse, patted several of them on their heads and lifted the smallest into his arms. He then reached into a saddle pack to pull out a satchel of honeyed biscuits—sweets enough for all of them.
Maria’s heart beat a little faster at the sight of his smile. She would never allow herself to wed an ungenerous man, and now she knew she would not have to. Nicholas was genuinely enjoying himself.
He set the small child on her feet again, and the children scampered away, as fast as they had descended upon them. Then Nicholas stepped over to Maria and helped her from her horse, easing her down to her feet.
She descended slowly, her body caressed by the length of his, and he did not release her even when she was standing on her own two feet. His hands remained around her waist, with his thumbs brushing over the dangerous territory just beneath her breasts. He dipped his head and had barely touched her lips with his own when a voice in the distance interrupted them.
“Lord Kirkham!” called a man who approached from the alehouse. “You honor my poor establishment with this visit. Will you stop in for a mug?”
“Master Lucomb,” Nicholas said as he put a little space between himself and Maria. He ran the fingers of one hand through his hair, even as he supported Maria with the other. “’Twould be my pleasure.” He ushered Maria to the entrance of the tavern and went inside.
It took a few moments for their eyes to adjust to the dim light within, but Maria walked ahead of Nicholas, with his hand at her waist, until they reached a table where the landlord bade them to sit. “Dulcie! Mags!” the man shouted. “Drinks for Lord Kirkham and his lady!”
Two buxom young women scuttled out from a back room and hurried to do the proprietor’s bidding. One of them poured drinks while the other sliced bread and cheese and put it on a platter. Both women tried to catch Nicholas’s eye, but he studiously kept his gaze off them, unwilling to acknowledge them while he was in the company of a lady.
Besides, the game was on. Nicholas would not win Lady Maria by exchanging lecherous glances with serving wenches. Nay, he would do all in his power to lure his lady fair into his arms.
Maria spoke charmingly with Lucomb, easily winning the man over with her polite, but demure, manner. Her hair, though partially covered, shone brightly in the weak light that filtered in through the high windows of the tavern, and ’twas all Nicholas could do to keep his hands from touching it. Her eyes sparkled like gems as she threaded her arm through his, in a manner that could only be considered proprietary.
She wanted him—as badly as he wanted her.
They drank their ale and sampled the bread and cheese while Nicholas spoke of having casks of Lu-comb’s ale sent up to the castle. When Nicholas finally stood and offered his hand to Maria, the proprietor stopped him with a question. “Did you know Mattie Tailor was ailing, my lord?”
Nicholas frowned. “Nay,” he said. Mattie had nursed him as a babe, when his own mother had perished in childbirth. She’d cared for him, loved him, when he’d had no mother of his own to do it. “What ails her?”
“’Tis the dropsy. She is short on breath,” Lucomb replied. “But Anna tends her and sees to her needs.”
Nicholas nodded, and considered whether to put off a visit until the morrow. He decided against it. The game could wait a bit. “Lady Maria, will your ankle tolerate a short walk?” he asked.
“Yes, my lord,” she replied. “It hardly bothers me at all.”
He helped her down the lane to a small cottage, where a young woman came to the door and let them in.
“Nicky?” queried a voice from deep in the darkness.
“Yes, Mother Mattie,” he replied, going to the bed against the far wall. Maria took a few more steps inside and watched as Nicholas sat on the bed and took the hand of the sick woman who lay there, rasping with every breath.
“Ah, ’tis good to see you, lad,” she said. “You’ve come back to Kirkham to stay this time?”
“We’ll see, Mattie,” he replied. “You know I’ve my life in London…I can’t just give it up.”
“You’re a rascal, you are,” she said. She lifted one hand and cupped his jaw affectionately. “But a worthy one. Who’ve you brought with you?” she asked, squinting in Maria’s direction.
“Ah,” he said, arising. ’Twas almost as if he’d forgotten she was with him. “This is Lady Maria. My lady, meet Mattie Tailor, who may not have given birth to me, but nurtured and raised me in my mother’s stead until I was old enough for fostering.”
“’Tis happy I am to know you, my lady,” Mattie said. “Forgive me if I do not get out of m’ bed. I’ve been ill of late….”
“Do not fret, ma’am,” Maria said, coming closer and taking the sick woman’s hand in her own. “Rest easy. I am pleased to know you.”
“You and my Nicky—”
“Is there aught that you need?” Nicholas interrupted. “Food or ale? Blankets?” he asked. “I’ll hire a lad to cut peat for you….”
“Nay, Lord Kirkham,” said the young woman who had let them in. “We are well provisioned—as always—and we thank you.”
In the dim light of the cottage, Maria could not be sure, but she thought Lord Kirkham blushed, and it endeared him to her. He cared deeply for this old woman and saw to her needs. They chatted for a while, in the manner of friends long acquainted, and included Maria as etiquette required.
“You will send word if…there is any change in her?” Nicholas said to the young woman when their visit had come to an end and they’d stepped to the door.
“Aye, my lord,” she said. “Of course.”
Then Nicholas made a quick farewell and ushered Maria outside.
“What say we ride a bit?” he asked, after pausing to breathe deeply of the fresh air outside Mattie’s cottage. His careworn expression vanished and the wicked gleam returned to his eye. Maria was hesitant, but decided there would be no harm in an innocent ride through his demesne.
They mounted their horses, and soon he led the way down a well-used path, past rich fields bordered by low hedges. The day was fine, and Maria thoroughly enjoyed the ride, even though she was unaccustomed to riding on horseback. ’Twas a fine vantage point from which to view the world, and to consider all that she’d seen that morning.
For all his appearance of being a wastrel, Nicholas Hawken was no true rogue. With her own eyes she’d seen that the people of the village revered him, and he knew so many of them by name. Even the children were known to him.
She rode behind him into a dense forest, and Nicholas called to her to follow him closely. She did so, and soon they came upon a cottage near a swiftly flowing brook.
The setting was quiet, and seemed magical to Maria.
“What is this place?” she asked as he helped her down.
The cottage was nothing like the ones she’d seen in the village. True enough, the roof was thatched, but there were several mullioned windows like the ones in Lord Kirkham’s office chamber at the castle, well-tended shrubs that framed the house prettily, blue and gray cobbles leading up to th
e ornately carved front door.
“My hunting lodge,” he replied. “Come. We’ll lunch here…rest awhile.”
“’Tis supplied with food?”
“Ah…on occasion,” Nicholas said, taking her hand and placing it in the crook of his elbow.
Maria went inside with him, not wanting to appear as if she’d never been on an outing of this nature before. She remembered two occasions at Alderton when a whole company of guests had gone on an excursion to a nearby lake. It had been a nightmare of work for the servants, who had had to manage all the details to make the affair possible.
As far as Maria knew, the party had enjoyed a lovely time.
On one wall of the cottage was a massive stone fireplace, with a comfortable, stuffed settle and a low wooden table nearby. The fireplace was laid for a fire and Nicholas knelt to light it. Also in the room were several more comfortable-looking chairs, as well as a locked cabinet, full of books. At the other end of the room was a sturdy oaken table with a clean linen cloth spread over it, and two plates, set for a meal.
Maria had no doubt that the basket in the center of the table was full of food. She clasped her hands together to keep from wringing them, and reminded herself that Nicholas’s intentions were honorable. After all, he’d taken her to visit his village, and had introduced her to Mattie Tailor, a woman to whom he had strong emotional ties. Surely that was not the kind of thing a man did lightly.
“My grandfather had this lodge built years ago,” Nicholas said from his place at the hearth. Then he gave a wry smile. “To escape my grandmother.”
Maria replied with a shy smile of her own as she stood at the far end of the room—as far away from him as possible, Nicholas thought. She looked delightful, as usual, even though she was dressed in the overprim, blue velvet gown tightly laced up to her throat and below her wrists. Nary an inch of her enticing flesh was exposed to his admiring gaze.
For now.
Once he had the fire going, Nicholas stepped over to the table to view the contents of the basket. He found it laden with food, and began to take out the neatly wrapped packages.
Glancing up at Maria, he noted her tentative expression again. Her golden eyes flickered hotly in the firelight and she pulled one side of her lower lip through her teeth. Every muscle in his body clenched.
He wanted to be the one to do that.
“We shall have a veritable feast, my lady fair,” he said, uncorking a bottle of wine. He poured the rich red liquid into two goblets, handing one to Maria, locking her eyes with his own as they sipped.
Heat simmered between them. Nicholas was tempted to throw her over his shoulder and head for the bedchamber, but he was certain she expected more finesse of him than that. She was skittish, perhaps from the long ride through the forest, or because of their isolated location. For they truly were far from anywhere.
It did not matter. He would calm her, woo her until she surrendered to their mutual attraction and found herself in the master’s large, comfortable bed with him. He would see that she had no regrets.
“There are cold meat pies and fowl,” he finally said, “cheese, spiced bread, dried fruit….”
Nick filled both plates, then picked them up and took them to the low table near the fire. Then he seated himself on the cushioned settle and glanced back at Maria.
“Come and sit,” he said.
He smiled with confidence as she picked up the wine goblets and joined him. She started to sit at the far end of the settle, but seemed to change her mind, moving closer to the middle.
Her invitation could not have been clearer.
He slid closer to her, then reached over and broke off a piece of meat pie. He offered it to Maria, intent on the game to win her. Though she seemed charmingly unsure for a moment, she opened her lips and accepted the tidbit, savoring the taste without chewing, closing her eyes in appreciation.
Nicholas almost groaned aloud, but he was too much the master to show her his reaction so soon.
She started chewing, then opened her eyes and took a morsel from her own plate, dropping it into Nicholas’s mouth.
He caught one slender finger with his lips.
She did not pull away. Her amber eyes grew huge, the pupils turning them nearly black, and Nicholas could not help but notice the way her breasts rose and fell with the tension of the moment. The pulse at the base of her throat quickened and her eyelids lowered.
He cupped her hand with his own, then pulled it away slightly, placing a kiss on her palm.
One of Maria’s hands flattened over her chest, as if to try to contain the beating of her heart. Nicholas was heartened by her reaction. She did not speak, so he continued.
Another kiss touched the inside of her wrist. This time, he used his tongue.
“My lord…”
“Nicholas,” he corrected, even as he pulled her body closer.
“N-Nicholas,” Maria repeated.
He did not let go of her hand, but leaned toward her and touched his lips to a sensitive point just below her ear. He loosened the veil that covered her hair, letting it fall behind her. Then, as he moved his lips closer to hers, he pulled out hairpins, causing her flaxen curls to shimmer around her shoulders.
“You are so beautiful….” he breathed. Her eyes were on his mouth, and she sighed as he moved to kiss her lips.
Sensation sparked through him when their mouths met. ’Twas as if they’d moved from the settle into the fireplace. Nothing existed but Maria and him. Her scent, something floral and a little bit spicy, surrounded him. Her lips were soft and moist, and the little sound she made beckoned for more.
He dipped one hand into the silken curls at the back of her head, intensifying the kiss. Her lips parted and he slipped in his tongue, eliciting an incredibly sweet response from her.
She pulled him closer.
She speared her fingers through his hair, cradling his head, even as he laid her back on the settle. Her form fit him perfectly. One of his hands worked on the laces of her bodice, the other teased with experience and purpose what lay underneath.
He groaned into her mouth when the cloth fell away and he was able to touch her bare skin.
Maria felt as if she were floating in a haze of sensual heat. Fire shot through the tips of her breasts to a place low in her center—a sensitive spot she’d only recently discovered, during the one other occasion when Nicholas had kissed her.
She moved against him to relieve the building tension, and he eased one powerful thigh between her legs. The slight pressure he exerted was enough to send her spiraling to heaven and back.
Even as she shuddered, she ached for more. She did not know what he’d done to her, but she knew it was not finished yet. She was driven to discover what all he could teach her, what more there was to know.
His tongue plundered her mouth wildly and his movements became even more demanding. Maria wanted to feel his naked chest against her breasts, wanted to kiss and suckle his nipples as he was doing to hers.
“Yes, love,” he said as she pulled on his tunic, “that’s it.”
He sat up only for as long as it took to yank the tunic over his head, then he stood and leaned over to pick her up. He carried her to an adjoining room, which was chilly and dim.
A large bed dominated the space, and Nicholas set her down next to it, speaking endearments in hushed tones.
He made her feel beautiful, wanted, cherished.
Earlier, she’d seen that he was a kind and generous man, a man worthy of her devotion. She would have no qualms about binding herself to him for life.
She was kissing her way across his chest when a sound in the distance penetrated her consciousness. She ignored it, finding his nipple beaded and wanting, just like her own.
She laved it with her tongue, circling it, suckling it, growing more aroused with every moment.
She felt Nicholas’s hands on her shoulders. They squeezed and drew her closer, then suddenly pushed her sharply away.
“Damn!�
�
She looked up at his distraught expression and wondered if she’d somehow erred. Then she heard the voices. People were approaching the cottage.
“Stay here,” Nicholas said, taking her lips again in a searing kiss. “I’ll deal with this.”
Maria leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath. After a moment, she heard the door open and then voices—a woman and a man, conversing with Nicholas.
Her breasts were still excruciatingly sensitive from Nicholas’s caresses. She covered them with her hands and tried to compose herself while she waited.
But the visitors were not leaving.
In fact, Maria clearly heard the sound of footsteps and voices in the main room of the lodge. They had come inside to stay.
Chapter Ten
Nicholas could not believe his bad luck. Or the even worse timing of Sir Roger and his wife. He threw on his tunic and fumbled with the laces before opening the heavy door to the cottage.
“Why, I had no idea you were here, my lord,” Tessa said as her eyes perused the room. She and Roger had to have known he was here, and must have expected to find Maria, as well. Their horses were tethered right outside.
“What brings you to my remote hunting lodge, Tessa?” he asked as he attempted to feel the kindness he forced into his tone.
“’Tis our habit to come here for days at a time, my lord,” Roger said, “especially when you, er, when the company at the castle is so…spirited.”
Nicholas felt a twinge of guilt. Of course they would feel uneasy with the kind of activities going on at Castle Kirkham. And he had always recognized the Malloys’ need to get away. Sir Roger had regularly turned a blind eye toward Nicholas’s excesses, though in private, Nick knew Roger disapproved of his intemperate behavior.
He avoided meeting Roger’s eyes. Though he knew the old steward would never consider judging him harshly, Nicholas sharply felt the cost of his masquerade. He disliked deceiving the old fellow and his wife, who had known him since he and Edmund were children.
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